


Titanfall

by Etrius_Lloyd



Category: Titanfall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etrius_Lloyd/pseuds/Etrius_Lloyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on one of my first Titanfall games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Titanfall

My name is Lieutenant Etrius Lloyd. I am a second generation pilot. I have no wife, no children, no one waiting for me back home; I have given myself to the war completely.

I rush through the tight streets of Smuggler’s Cove, Angel City, with the sounds of battle all around me. It’s a good sound. Familiar. The indicator on my display tells me I am closing in to where I need to be, where I want to be.

There is little resistance in my path, just the occasional squad of grunts emerging from the alleys. I pay them little mind, moving them down with my trusty rifle as I pass by, too rushed to take their heads. They drop like flies as they always do. It make me feel powerful. Dominant.

I end up in one of the larger streets. A quick look around tells I’m all alone. All the fighting must be happening by the market. Good. I run again, staying close to the buildings, when a drop pod falls from the sky and buries itself in the asphalt ahead. From the cloud of dust a squad of machines emerges. Spectres. Automated battle droids. Tougher. Faster. More deadly.

Their slit, red eyes spot me and as one they raise their rifles, but I have no time to waste on them. With a single thought I activate my jumpkit, and the jetpack sends me flying into the air Quickly my feet find the walls, running across weightless as the bullets whistle around me. But my armor is iron and my pace is fast. I am untouchable and I savor every moment of it.

I launch myself onto the rooftop and spot the hanger ahead; a solid, steel monstrosity. Fifty meters to target, my display tells me as I reload my rifle. I activate my radar pulse and enable myself to see through steel and concrete, pulse after pulse. A lone, little orange figure leaves the hangar through an exit opposite of my current location. Perfect. I activate my comm. link.

“This is Lloyd. I’m here but I’m going to need extraction.”

The response is quick and twofold.

_“Sneaky here. No can do. I’m pinned down by two Titans.”_

_“This is Phil. I see you. On my way.”_ The sound of massive footsteps comes running down the street, and a moment later this 22 feet tall, metal Titan comes dashing around the corner. A Stryder. I can’t help but grin inside my helmet. Sure, it may look like a steel cardboard box with arms, legs, and a gun way too large for its thin and clumsy-looking body. But it is fast, ridiculously so, and that is just what I need.

“Alright!” I shout. “Here I go!” I jump down, boosting my jumpkit. The landing is soft, barely registering. Gotta love those jetpacks. I sprint faster than ever, rushing for the hangar. The clanking of the Stryder at my back encourages me further. Giant robots with giant guns tend to have that effect.

But then I hear the sound. That rumbling, thundering sound, growing louder and louder. I know it all too well.

_"Titanfall! Look out!”_

With an earth-shattering blast the Titan lands in front of the hangar, throwing me away like a ragdoll. As the dust settles the iron-wrought leviathan stands up straight, groaning as it blots out the sun. I recognize it instantly. Earthquakes for footsteps. Armor like a mountain. An Ogre. It’s the exact opposite of the Stryder. Slow, lumbering, and the closest thing to indestructible humanity has ever gotten. Fuck my life.

The Ogre’s massive fist flies through the air with enough force to level a house. But the Stryder is faster. It dashes backwards, unleashing hell from its chaingun which fires bullets my size. But the Ogre’s shield deflects it all, and it returns fire with its massive 40mm cannon. Each shot is thunder, tearing the Stryder apart. Its shields are much weaker, its armor almost nonexistent. It’s not even a fight.

I can’t help, I can’t even afford to care. No time. I sprint inside, ignoring the screeching massacre I leave behind. My footsteps echo through the empty space, and at the center of it all I find what I am looking for. The flag. A red beauty. Unguarded. It is victory in my hands, glory.

_“We have taken the enemy flag!”_ the commander proclaims, and my name flashes across the interface of my helmet, of everyone’s helmet. I hear them cheer, but I can’t celebrate yet. This was the easy part. Our base is all the way back, on the opposite side of town, and now everyone knows the flag has been taken. Everyone.

No time to waste. I jolt out of the other side of the warehouse and into the nearest building. No doubt I have half a dozen people looking for me and the big bull’s eye on my head. “This is Lloyd! I have the flag! Requesting immediate Titan support!” I cut through a small living room on the second floor when the shotgun blast sends a friendly grunt flying across the doorway. She comes through a moment later, a pilot in Militia colors. Enemy. The glowing visor of her helmet meets with mine, and she raises her weapon. But I’m faster.

I throw myself out of the window while pulling a satchel charge from my vest, and flip the detonator before I even touch the ground. The blast vaporizes the entire second floor, sparing nothing. Hell yeah. Then the inevitable landing rams my shoulder out of its socket, armor or no. The pain nearly knocks me out but I manage to stay conscious. No time to sleep. I have a flag to capture. Then the cocking of a gun disrupts my daze.

Grunts. Three of them. I stare into the barrel of the carbine rifle. At this range the helmet won’t do much good. I’m not afraid. Annoyed. Killed by grunts? Really?

But there is the rumbling again, and as the grunts look up in panic I activate my jumpkit and boost myself out of harm’s way before 40 tons of Titan drops on top of the squad with enough force to crater the street. Multiple blue lights pierce the dust cloud and look at me with an artificial curiosity. It’s not as large as an Ogre, but not as thin as a Stryder. An Atlas. The perfect balance between speed and armor. But most importantly: it’s died in IMC silver. Fuck yeah.

I recognize the Titan’s insignia just as its chest opens up and reveals Sneaky’s grinning face. “Need a ride?” God bless that beautiful motherfucker.

“Get me out of here!” I shout and jump on top of the Titan’s shoulder while the auto healing function of my suit pops back my shoulder. I am grateful for the painkillers that follow.

_“Hold on!”_ The Titan starts to run. I hold on tight. It’s like a rodeo on a lazy horse the size of a house. We move fast, staying on the edge of town. Protected by the Titan’s shields I pick off a few specters on the rooftops. My aim is terrible. I don’t care. We’re going to win!

Celebrated too soon. The house we pass explodes when the 60 ton Ogre comes crashing through and tackles Sneaky. The shock throws me off his Atlas, and if it hadn’t been for the quick use of my jumpkit I would’ve dislocated my shoulder. Again. I end up safely on the street, quickly retreating inside a store.

In terror I watch the Ogre smash its fist into the Atlas’ chest, but Sneaky manages to avoid a second blow by dashing to the side. His Arc Cannon takes a second to charge up before shooting a bolt of lightning at the Ogre, peeling away its shields. _“Go! I got this! Run!_ ” I can barely hear his voice over the thundering of the 40mm cannon.

For what seems like the thousandth time now I run, flag firmly attached to my back. I’m so close! I can see the base from here. There is no one around. No one to stop me. I enter the courtyard, rushing towards the blue flag at the center. I win. I’m the best. I am God, I am Jesus, I am Elvis, and I will live a hundred years.

The bullet hits me square in the chest, tearing through my armor like a pencil through paper. I don’t even hear the shot. The flag clatter on the floor, rolling away as I collapse. It doesn’t hurt. Not yet. Hard to breath. Blood in my throat. My lung? Where the fuck did that come from? The little symbol on the bottom right of my display lights up. I activate it with a thought.

I hear footsteps come closer. Soft. Human. Through the haze in my eyes I can see the Pilot standing beside me, holding the mother of all sniper rifles. His face is hidden behind the blue lenses in his helmet. The ghillie elements on his head almost makes it seem like he has hair. He reaches down to pick up the flag. I have to stop him. Have to shoot him in the face. But my body won’t move.

As soon as he touches the flag is dematerializes into countless little, shiny cubes.

_“The enemy has returned their flag,”_ the commander tells me through my comm. link. God-fucking-dammit! All for nothing! My heart races with frustration. I was so close!

Without a word the faceless soldier raises his gun and aims it at my face. He wants a headshot. I’m not afraid this time either. Just angry. Suddenly Spyglass talks to me in his cold, robotic voice. Three little words. Words that quicken my heart and give me back my strength. _“Standby for Titanfall.”_

My Ogre, Heavy Arms, comes crashing down the atmosphere like a shooting star, and lands square in the middle of the courtyard. The shockwave blasts away the marksman Pilot and sends him flying into a pile of crates. With a ominous groaning Heavy Arms stands up straight and raises its weapon. The Plasma Railgun starts to spin and the barrel lights up white hot. The Pilot hoist himself back on his feet and activates his cloak, but all he does is spark and flicker. Damaged in the crash. Sucks to be him. Heavy Arms fires its aptly named God Killer and turns the Pilot into a red mist.

I chuckle, letting the auto healing function patch me up. That was epic. Earth-rumbling footsteps approach, and a giant metal hand lifts me up with a gentleness hard to imagine an Ogre having. Its chest opens up and swallows me whole, engulfing me in darkness until the manual systems boot up and the screens light up the cockpit.

“Welcome back, Pilot. I have kept the seat warm for you.” Jeeves’ warm voice welcomes me as I grab hold of the controls. The screens are my eyes. The controls are my hands. I become my Titan. I become 60 tons of steel and death. I am invincible. And by God I want that flag back!


End file.
